


We are the thunder

by toliveathousandlives (Froschkoenig)



Category: His Dark Materials (TV), His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman
Genre: Character Death, Character Study, Gen, Not Canon Compliant - His Dark Materials, Other, the golden monkey - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-12 04:42:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28879671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Froschkoenig/pseuds/toliveathousandlives
Summary: The golden monkey had a name. He‘d always had one. Just like anyone else.He barely remembered what it was, on some days. On others, he spoke it to himself, softly, when she couldn’t hear him.Taren. Thunder.He had a name, but nobody had called him that in years. Mrs. Coulter rarely spoke to him at all.He had a name, way back when… before all of it happened. Before she changed. Before they changed.
Relationships: Lord Asriel/Marisa Coulter
Comments: 7
Kudos: 13





	We are the thunder

**Author's Note:**

> To A and K. For inspiring this line of thought.

The golden monkey had a name. He‘d always had one. Just like anyone else.

He barely remembered what it was, on some days. On others, he spoke it to himself, softly, when she couldn’t hear him.

Taren. Thunder.

He had a name, but nobody had called him that in years. Mrs. Coulter rarely spoke to him at all.

He had a name, way back when… before all of it happened. Before she changed. Before they changed.

*

There had been a time when the golden monkey would have done everything for her. When they’d been inseparable. Literally. But also figuratively. They’d been best friends. They did everything together. When they’d been kids, they had dreamed about big things. They’d dreamed about being important and becoming scientists and scholars. They knew that it wasn’t likely, because Mrs. Coulter was a woman. But still, they’d thought they could be different. They could be the ones who would rise to the top anyway. Who would fight the system, fight the Magisterium, and win.

They’d stayed young and naïve for a long time. Hope was something that they’d had plenty of, way back when. They fought and shrugged off disappointment and setbacks. They went on and on, even when all the odds were stacked against them. They were determined and they didn’t have anything to lose, because all they needed was each other.

*

When they were young, they would lie in bed next to each other, her stroking his fur. They’d dream of a future where they’d be the ones calling the shots. They’d work in the background, silent and strong. Fearless. Mrs. Coulter would smile, softly, and then she’d say his name. Like a secret. Like a promise. 

“Taren.”

The golden monkey would close his eyes, purring from contentedness. Taren. Thunder. 

They were the thunder. An afterthought for most, but fierce and low and coming up to you from behind. Dark and dangerous. Soothing. They’d be like thunder and they’d change the world.

*

When he settled, they were both overjoyed. A monkey was perfect for what they’d envisioned their life would be like. And he had the most beautiful coloring. His fur was golden and soft and Mrs. Coulter used to pet him endlessly. She’d been enthralled by his looks and what it meant. What it revealed about them. Sometimes she would stop and stare at him in awe. And then she’d whisper his name again, secretly. His name had always been a promise. The promise of a good life for them. 

*

When Mrs. Coulter turned 20, people were getting suspicious. Sure, a young girl could dab into the sciences for a while, but she was supposed to get married sooner rather than later. That was just the way it was supposed to be.

When they’d met Mr. Coulter and his daemon Taheera, they knew this could be a chance for them. Edward was nice enough and he mostly treated them fairly. As fairly as men of his stand knew how to treat women, at least. It hadn’t been perfect, but for them it was the only way they could keep on working towards their goals while also keeping their standing in society. 

And what if, after a few years of mediocrity and doing laundry and dinner parties, they were still no further into their research than before? They were still happy enough. Content. They didn’t go hungry and Edward never hurt them on purpose. They still had each other, and deep down they knew their time would come. It just hadn’t yet. So they waited and cleaned the house and smiled for family friends and neighbors and arrogant Magisterium men who looked a second too long at Mrs. Coulters cleavage. They bore it all because they still had hope for a better life.

*

But then… then they’d met Asriel and Stelmaria and everything changed. Because where they were the thunder, Asriel was the lightning. He and Stelmaria were beautiful and breathtaking and they never once in their life cared about what others thought of them. They were only interested in the truth and exploring and furthering their knowledge of the world. Once they’d met them, Mrs. Coulter and the golden monkey could never go back to Edward. Asriel was the sun, and how could they turn away from him now that they’d found him? Even if it was just for a short while, they wanted to bask in their light. Make Asriel and Stelmaria see and notice them. Love them.

And they did, for a while. Asriel fell in love with Mrs. Coulter and their meetings were full and passionate and wonderful. The golden monkey and Stelmaria would huddle together and enjoy being close to each other, and safe, and whole.

Asriel had awoken something inside of them that had been asleep for years. A longing. A reminder of an almost forgotten promise to do great things. To shine. They were still like thunder, or at least they could be again. They’d sneak up on people and shake them to the core. Leave them wondering. They’d be unpredictable, strong, unforgiving. Without remorse or reason. They’d destroy the whole world just to build it anew, better, stronger and more fair.

But just like the sun, just like lightning, Mrs. Coulter and the golden monkey were sure to be burned. When Mrs. Coulter found out she was pregnant, they didn’t know what to think. This hadn’t been the plan. There was no room for children in their life. Mrs. Coulter and the golden monkey still had a vision of what their future could be like. After years of silence and obedience, Asriel had been the spark to set them aflame again. They were hungry for the world, hungry for power and money and truth. 

*

When Mrs. Coulter and the golden monkey found out she was pregnant, one look was enough to translate everything they were thinking. They were one in that moment, maybe more than any time before, daemon and human. Because in that moment, they could see the future flashing in front of their eyes. Many possibilities, many lives they could never live. But they knew that they couldn’t go back to Edward. That they were meant to be more than a housewife who pleases her husband. That the spark that made them alive would go out for good if they kept living like that. 

So they told Asriel. In retrospect, the golden monkey wasn’t sure what they’d expected. Did they think Asriel would be happy? That he’d propose to Mrs. Coulter, make her leave Edward? That they’d get married and live their life happily side by side, raising a kid? 

Asriel had never liked children and never would, and he did not react well. Maybe it was in those moments of rage that they finally saw him for what he really was. He only saw her failure and his shame. He saw his future disappearing, the funding for his research going up in flames because he had been with a married woman and gotten her pregnant. Even the scholastic sanctuary couldn’t keep him safe from that. In that moment, Asriel didn’t see a future. He only saw what he would lose, and he saw who was responsible for it: Mrs. Coulter.

He yelled and screamed and threw things at them, and Stelmaria attacked the golden monkey in blind fury. She almost tore him apart.

In that moment, when Mrs. Coulter screamed for him, grabbing his fur to get to him, something happened that would change their life forever. Asriel had been raging for minutes now, desperate and angry and full of shame. And when Mrs. Coulter stopped cowering in the corner because nothing was more important to her than keeping the golden monkey safe, he snapped. He’d always been the sun. He’d always been the one people bowed and catered to. Mrs. Coulter hadn’t been any different. She had been his puppet like everyone else. And now she dared to turn away from him for that stupid monkey? She’d been stupid and gotten herself pregnant and he hated her so much in that moment. His mind white with fury, he grabbed the golden monkey and threw him against the wall. He wanted him to be gone, out of the way. But more importantly, he wanted to hurt them both.

Mrs. Coulter almost threw up when Asriel touched her daemon. She’d endured lots of abuse in her life, but nobody had ever dared to touch the golden monkey. It was… forbidden. It just wasn’t done. Nobody did this. And Asriel didn’t even flinch. He didn’t react at all. Stelmaria looked taken aback for a second, but she caught herself quickly and went to stand by Asriels side. They looked at them, and Mrs. Coulter was so frightened about what they could do to them that she didn’t move a muscle. She didn’t even breathe, tears silently running down her cheeks. She’d never been this afraid in her life and she wouldn’t ever be again after this.

When Asriel realized that she wouldn’t react, that he had won (for now), a smile latched itself to his face. He grinned, teeth showing.

“Now you keep your pretty mouth shut, don’t you?”

Mrs. Coulter still wouldn’t react. The golden monkey lay still near the wall, exhausted and battered and too afraid to move. Asriel had overstepped a boundary that nobody ever had, and it was hard to keep a clear mind when something like this was a possibility. If Asriel would touch him, what else could he do? How much more pain could he inflict upon them that they’d never even dared to believe possible?

Asriel left after that. Just like that. Like he hadn’t just rocked their world and turned it sideways. Like he hadn’t just done the worst possible thing to them.  
Mrs. Coulter was shaking badly when the golden monkey crawled into her arms. It was like a switch had turned and she hugged him close, sobbing into his fur.

“Taren… Taren… what are we going to do?” She kept whispering his name, because it had always been a promise. The golden monkey didn’t reply, because he didn’t have an answer. They were thunder, and thunder wasn’t supposed to feel afraid. They weren’t supposed to be so weak and helpless.

That was the last time she ever called him by his name. Because even though it hadn’t been his fault, or hers. Even though it was all Asriel, a promise had been broken that night. And they could never be the same as before. 

Nobody but them knew the meaning of his name. Nobody knew of the promise they had put into that word, softly, hopefully, when they’d just been children. It was a word full of dreams and possibilities and a future so bright. That future was lost now, and so was their promise.

They couldn’t be thunder without a lightning, and they wanted to be as far away from anything related to Asriel as possible. Maybe they weren’t meant to be thunder after all. Maybe the darkness within them had never meant clearing the air and new beginnings. Maybe the God who had given them the name Taren had been wrong all along.  
Maybe thunder was just a loud, pretentious sound after all. A threat that would never be followed by action. Just the second best thing after lightning, which was the real destructive force. Maybe they were always meant to be the ones who follow after Asriel. Who cleaned up the mess he and Stelmaria left. The aftershock of their greatness.

*

They gave up Lyra, when she was born. They couldn’t keep her safe, and in their darkest moments, they didn’t want to have her at all. She was just a tiny thing, but she’d been the reason their life had fallen apart. 

The golden monkey looked down at Pantalaimon when they placed them with a gyptian wet nurse. The little daemon was a mouse right now, squirming, alive and warm and well. The golden monkey stroked his fur gently and bid him a silent goodbye. Maybe it was for the best to leave them. 

Because God only knew that whatever he and Mrs. Coulter touched turned to dust in their hands. They’d hurt them. So maybe giving them up was the biggest proof of their love that they could give.

They watched Ma Costa take the baby and daemon away, and neither Mrs. Coulter nor the golden monkey shed a tear.

*

Years later they still weren’t okay. They acted like it. Mrs. Coulter was tough and edgy and sharp. She was cunning and strong. People feared her because she could be oh so cruel. She still wasn’t afraid to fight for what she wanted, but by now violence had become one of her favorite pastimes. Whenever they felt desperate or helpless or lonely, whenever they accidentally thought of Asriel or the girl, they let it out on other people. They would never let anyone else hurt them. They would never let anyone else take anything from them. So they fought. And they hurt people. Mrs. Coulter with words, sharp and deadly, unveiled threats, subtle blackmail, right out mental and psychological torture. She knew so very well where it hurt that it was easy for her to turn this pain onto others. She used the golden monkey to hurt people too. He would fight their daemons, hurt them, kill them. In the beginning it went against all of his instincts to hurt someone else’s soul. To destroy something that was so similar to himself. When he looked them in the eyes when they turned into grey dust and smoke, something of himself went along with them. Died. Maybe it was their shared hope. Their idealism. Their sense of fairness. Their love. All the things that once motivated them to change the world. Nowadays they only lived for themselves. Because who else could be trusted? 

*

After a while he began enjoying it. The violence, the torture. Because whenever he was hurting someone, they couldn’t hurt him or Mrs. Coulter. They weren’t the victim anymore.  
They were just standing up for themselves. And people were bad anyway, all of them. They deserved to be put in their place. To be disciplined. To be punished. 

The golden monkey started enjoying hurting people because he felt strong in those moments. Empowered. In control. And he knew Mrs. Coulter felt the same. She was proud of him. She never said so, but he knew it. And what if they lost all of what they’d once been? What did it matter if they were cruel and hated by most people? That Mrs. Coulter could barely stand to look him in the eyes, sometimes. That maybe she wasn’t so proud of what they’d become after all. The golden monkey could take it. He would take the blame and the hurt and the abuse. He would take it whenever Mrs. Coulter hated herself and him so much that she needed to punish him. To hurt him.  
He would take it as long as she was safe.

*

When the golden monkey saw Mrs. Coulter standing over Lyra on that icy cliff, he didn’t feel anything. Everything had been dark and numb for years by then. But still, deep down, he knew that once upon a time, Lyra had meant something to them. Her life had destroyed theirs, but she was only a kid.

And more than anything, the golden monkey knew that this was it. That they couldn’t keep going like this. It was almost as if they’d been severed with all those kids along the way. He couldn’t feel her anymore. He didn’t love her. It was almost as if they were two different people. There was nothing left, and he knew that she felt the same. They were both empty and when he looked ahead, there was nowhere to go from here. No future, no plans, no dreams. No hope.

When Mrs. Coulter lifted the knife to Lyras neck, fingers shaking, the golden monkey smiled sadly. It felt almost like pity for the woman he knew she’d been. For the person they were, deep down. Because this wasn’t it. This was pure hatred and fear. They’d killed so many people. There was nothing good left in them. Nothing worth living for. They’d lost control of their life years ago, and every desperate act to take it back had failed so far. Killing her daughter would not make her whole. It would not change them. It wouldn’t lift the darkness that had befallen their mind.

So the monkey, swift and silent, came to Mrs. Coulters side. He saw Pantalaimon laying nearby, shaking, begging for their life. There was no love inside of him when he touched Mrs. Coulter shoulder gently. There was no feeling at all, not even when she looked at him, angry, betrayed. He hadn’t been the only one to break their promise. Mrs. Coulter didn’t move, and maybe it was because she knew he was right. Knew what was coming. The golden monkey reached deep inside them, collecting all their strength and all that was them and tried to remind her of that. Of the love that had once been, of their life that could have been but never was. Of their promise to shine and be great and be just.

And then he pushed her, hard and unforgiving and without a second of hesitation. And when she fell down that cliff, almost as if time had stopped, the golden monkey jumped after her. And in those final moments, there was no hate in her eyes. She understood, he was sure of it. Even though they hadn’t talked in years. They were still one. He was still her soul. And maybe, in an afterlife, they could be together again. He could be Taren and she could be Marisa again.

But for now they did their duty. Maybe they’d always gotten it wrong. Maybe they themselves had been the problem, not the cure. But in the end, they’d been a good thing after all. They were the thunder that cleared the air.

And finally, in that last sacrifice, they’d done right by their name. They’d earned it, almost too late.

They were thunder, just an afterthought, barely remembered. But they went deep and thoroughly and made room for something new, something better. And maybe Lyra could be it, that change they’d always dreamed about.

**Author's Note:**

> Taheera – simple or restrained person (Arabic)  
> Taren – thunder (welsh)


End file.
